


revenge is a dish best served hot

by elison



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-02-06 00:51:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1838362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elison/pseuds/elison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The girl was almost too good of an opportunity. A plan hatches, a glorious and unstoppable plan, to squeeze out as much hurt from Rumplestiltskin as you can. To make him second best. You’re wicked, and maybe vengeance is more suited to your sister, but that doesn’t stop you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd, possible overuse of the dash or semicolon.

He taught you what it was, for one glorious moment, to be the best. Just as swiftly, he taught you what it was to be second best. And second best you have been, and always will remain. The girl was almost too good of an opportunity. Snow White, mine of information that she is, mentioned that she was the paramour of a Mr. Gold. Upon pushing, she so easily pushed, you learned that Mr. Gold was the identity of one Rumplestiltskin, currently unhinged and indisposed in his cage. A plan hatches, a glorious and unstoppable plan, to squeeze out as much hurt from Rumplestiltskin as you can. To make him second best. You’re wicked, and maybe vengeance is more suited to your sister, but that doesn’t stop you. 

“Belle, isn’t it?” you ask, pasting on the humble smile that you’ve been wearing for everyone in this pitiful town.

“Yes, can I help you?” she asks, and each word comes out like a question. No wonder Rumplestiltskin liked this one; she’ll be easy to manipulate.

“I don’t know if we’ve met yet. My name’s Zelena, I came through with the second curse,” you begin, and you’re losing her polite-but-uninterested interest, she looking around the library, clearly a bit of a wanderer. “I’m Snow White’s midwife,” you continue, and her focus snaps to you with recognition. 

“Oh! I’m so excited about the baby,” she smiles, genuine, and you can see why Rumplestiltskin chose her, again; she’s beautiful, and her blue eyes are so, so clear. “Did you need something from the library?” she asks, warm.

“You see,” you begin your well-crafted explanation, “libraries were never so complex where I come from. I’m afraid I could use a little assistance?” You manipulate your eyes wide and open, hoping that you’re not overdoing it. You have a habit, sometimes, of overdoing it. 

“Yes, of course! What were you looking for?” she asks, all enthusiasm now, and so willing to help. If you didn’t hate her for loving Rumplestiltskin, you could almost fall for it.

“I have much in the way of practical experience to assist Snow in her pregnancy,” you begin, offering more casualness to your relationship with Snow White than you have. It works; she seems even more relaxed. “What I don’t have is knowledge of these machines, of modern medicine, of what it means to give birth in Storybrooke, Maine. Snow is my charge - I feel a duty to give her, and her baby, the best care possible.” 

“We have a section of medical books, and we have a less technical section for books on pregnancy. I’m happy to show you,” she says, and your choice of outfit is paying off, because she definitely peeked down into your cleavage. You temper your triumphant expression; try to play it off as pleasure for her assistance.

“Lead the way, oh curator of knowledge,” you say, and it is strange, such a strange thing to say, but you’ve always been misunderstood. She seems not to notice. You follow her, close but not too close, you don’t want to arouse suspicion. Your aims are higher - you want her interested, not afraid. If the inhabitants of the town hadn’t already been so easy to dupe, you might be concerned. You “accidentally” bump your chest into her back when she stops in front of a section of thick, tattered books. They look unbearably boring. “Is this it?” you play with such eagerness that you fight terribly hard not to laugh in her face. 

“Sorry about the abrupt stop,” she says, coloring, and you’re pleased she’s not brushing it off. “Anyway, this is the area for the medical texts.”

“They’re very large,” you observe, wanting to see what her reaction would be. 

“They are! But there is so much fascinating information to be had, it’s really amazing to me the type of books they have in this world. There’s something for everything you could imagine,” she sighs, pleasurably, “Being librarian in this town is… a dream.” And you have just found your angle.

“I can’t wait to read them all! I suppose I’ll be seeing a good amount more of you? I have such a thirst for knowledge,” you say, leaning into her space and plucking out a dusty, plain-looking book. You step back from her, looking at the book and smiling as you’ve wanted to smile the instant she responded so well to you. 

“That sounds good,” she says, pulling at her lips with her teeth, cheeks holding back a smile. Is she truly so desperate for friendship? “Would you like to see the other section? So you can really see all the books available to you here.”

“I would. I can’t believe I haven’t been utilizing the resources of this world more! To imagine, there was a building entirely filled with books, full of entire worlds!” and you laugh inside, because you’ve been to other worlds, and they aren’t in books. She walks you over to another section, filled with more color and pictures, soft-cover books with alarming questions about pregnancy on them. “It’s no surprise you enjoy yourself here, Belle,” you continue, and the smile you give her is prompted by how you imagine Rumplestiltskin’s face will turn when he sees you’ve bedded his true love, “It is an exceedingly lovely place to be.”

“It is!” she says, and you can feel it, you’ve got her now. She matches you, smile for smile, and if you want to touch her fair cheek, it’s only because one day you will need to in order to complete your vengeance. You allow the stupid smiling to continue for as long as she wishes, knowing your face is pretty enough to be pleasing, that it is enough to entice her without you doing a damn thing. She shakes herself out of it after a moment, eyes darting around the library quickly. “I, uh, have got some shelving to do. So I better go do it. Let me know if you need anymore help,” she says, and you look at her like the divine vengeance she is and nod, hoping you come off as smitten. She skirts off quickly, ducking her head and turning the nearest corner. You lean back against the shelf of books for expectant mothers and allow the full breadth of your satisfaction to crawl across your face. Checking the clock on your cellular phone (such a convenient, tiny thing), you turn around and grab three books, taking them to a table in view of the front desk and pretending to read for another two hours. Some of the best plans always take time.

The clock tower strikes, and you know now that it is the time she takes her lunch. You’re not stupid - every plan needs preparation. She’s been glancing over at you while you read, you pretending not to notice. You’re honestly a bit surprised - while you noticed that she was isolated during your preparations, you hadn’t figured it would translate to such a need for contact. You approach the desk, four books in hand.

“I’d like to check these books out. Is that how it works?” you ask, injecting confusion into your voice.

“Yes, absolutely. Unfortunately, the medical text is on reserve and has to stay here. But the other three I can lend you, no problem.” she says helpfully.

“I’ll just have to come back in to read it then?” you ask, tilting your head so your hair slides over your shoulder. You’ve seen that work, in seductions. Glinda used to--

“We open at 10:00 and close at 5:00. You’re welcome to come by any time,” she says, her eyes straying on your hair. You lick your lips, and she goes there, too. She really is the most charming creature.

“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but as you know people talk,” you say, and she instantly looks guarded, defensive. She stamps a card on the inside of a pregnancy book especially hard. She’s got more bite to her than you had pegged. “I’m new to this world, and I had heard that you had to learn about it as well.” Her features soften, clearly expecting something about her reputation as Rumplestiltskin’s girl. “Would you mind, terribly, as one transplant to another, to join me for lunch? I am still trying to understand much of this world,” you say, over exaggerating your girlish shrug, but it seems she’s used to a flair for dramatics. In retrospect, it is a trait that surprises you not at all. You, too, were once taken by Rumplestiltskin’s flamboyant charms.

“Have you ever had a cheeseburger?” she asks, and now she’s leaning into you, and her eyes are bright and her smile utterly enthralling. At least vengeance will be pleasurable.

“I haven’t. What is it?” you ask, having already seen Snow White cram one in her mouth during a craving. 

“You have to come with me to Granny’s. You can have it with french fries, and you can put on ketchup or, they’re great just with the burger!” she enthuses, and you feel a hint of pleasure that has very little to do with winning.

“How can I say no? Please, take me to lunch,” you flirt, and there’s no escaping the fact that you are. She whirls around to grab her bag and her coat, running ahead to open the library door, practically dancing at the thought of introducing you to a cheeseburger. 

“Can I leave the books here, while we have lunch? I might as well do some more reading here afterward,” you say, and you hope that’s not pushing it, that it’s not too much for her at once.

“Yes!” she says, delighted. “I always get more reading done at the library. I think of it as a second home. Now, come on! I’m starving, and I have to show you the best thing about this new world.” Even if you didn’t want to, there is no stopping your feet as they hasten to catch up with her.


	2. Chapter 2

You follow her all the way to the diner, she enthusing about “pancakes” and all the flavors you can add to your meal. Curiously, she quiets once you’re both inside the diner, the girl taking a dejected look all around before slumping into a seat. You take the opposite seat and determine to find the reason for her mood.

“Belle?” you ask, trying desperately to soften your voice. It’s still so early -- your plan can not fall apart now. You set your palm on the table, a mere touch from the edge of hers. “Is something wrong?” you say, ducking your head down to catch her eyes.

“It’s nothing, it’s stupid,” she denies, the crease of her lip tensing, hard. You move your thumb to fall just next to her hand, the lightest thrill of a touch. Your heart beats a little faster. It’s the impending victory, you tell yourself. “It’s just a… feeling I have,” Belle begins, apparently deciding to trust you. You clench your other fist, hidden under the table, hard onto your knee. This will be the year that you free yourself of the past, and exact some well-deserved retribution as well. 

“My friend, Ruby, she hasn’t been the same since the second curse brought us back,” she says, lowering her voice urgently. You nod her on, hoping you look soft and encouraging. “She’s supposed to work here in the diner, but I hardly ever see her. Sometimes she’ll be here, and other times I think she’s just staying home. I’ve tried to see her, but she doesn’t come out,” Belle says, looking more upset the more she talks. Despite yourself, you’re intrigued.

“This isn’t normal behavior for her?” you start, and Belle shakes her head emphatically, “And it only started with this curse?”

“That’s right, she never acted this way before.”

“Well, I don’t know anything about magic,” you say, lying through your teeth, “But it sounds to me like something went wrong in the curse.” You wouldn’t put it past them -- you were only around to add the memory potion. Is that what caused it? Or was it something else? Snow White, Prince Charming, and your sister, all trying to cast one of the darkest curses out there. Your sister alone could have succeeded -- her track record on curses is, you grudgingly admit, rather solid. The other two so-called heroes, though? They might be just the element to derail a curse as tightly crafted as that one. They were raw ingredients of true love, you are always uncomfortably reminded whenever you pay a visit to the baby growing inside Snow White. There’s no telling how they could have botched the curse. But the possibility exists. You don’t like the unexpected showing up when this is your moment.

“Zelena? Zelena, what’s going on? They’re ready to take our order,” Belle says, looking suspicious. Or maybe she’s just concerned. It can be hard to tell.

“A cheeseburger,” you force out, shooting Belle your brightest smile. You have a feeling it’s less convincing than your previous attempts. She orders the same and the waitress walks off.

“What was that about?” she whispers, looking at you with wide eyes.

“I got lost in thought, thinking about the curse. If it’s making your friend act so strangely, and it’s taken all our memories,” you start, grasping at an excuse quickly, “what if I’m acting unusually, and I don’t even know it? How can I be sure that I am fully myself?” you ask with overblown anxiety. Her fingers smooth out over the back of your hand. You hadn’t even been paying attention to where your body was, your mind so full. The feeling of her fingers ghosting over your skin brings you fully back.

“We can try and figure it out together,” Belle says, pressing her hand firmly over yours, offering you a comforting smile. You damn Rumplestiltskin for his inexplicable orbit -- he had your admiration, he had Belle, he had your sister, and your mother, and he doesn’t even see how remarkable that loyalty was. It strengthens your resolve to tear this world down, to travel to the past and build it anew. He doesn’t deserve this, you think, looking at Belle’s warm regard, her desire to help.

“How are we going to do that? I’m only a midwife,” you say, the lie almost pinging your conscience. “I need to find out the truth, though. If not for me, then for your friend. How many others in town are affected by whatever is wrong with the curse?”

“We probably need to keep this quiet. If whoever cast the curse finds out we’re onto them…” Belle trails off, looking nervous. You clamp down your lips and widen your eyes, laughter a lot closer to hysteria pulling deep inside. Right on time, two large plates are set in front of you both, and you stuff four burning-hot french fries into your mouth to try and control yourself.

“Ow! Hot!” you moan, washing down the still-burning potato with an enormous gulp of ice water.

“Ohh,” Belle sympathizes, laughing just a bit, her thumb stroking over your hand.

“Well, that was embarrassing,” you tell her entirely truthfully, perhaps for the first time. “I swear I can still feel it all the way down my throat.”

“Yeah, let it cool down first,” she says, and her smile is inching dangerously towards sincerely endearing. She lifts her hand, grabs a red bottle. “This is ketchup. I like to dip my fries, that’s the, uh, hot things you just ate, into it. Also a little bit on the cheeseburger can go a long way.” She shakes the bottle like a pro, and you pretend that you’re not missing having that hand on top of yours. “Here, I’ll pour just a little bit for you to try.”

The two of you settle into a rhythm of eating, not trading much in the way of conversation. You compliment her on the suggestion of a cheeseburger; she looks genuinely pleased. It’s not bad, this casual companionship. Yes, you do have your ends for spending time with her, but it feels like too long since someone has taken simple joy in your company. When was the last time someone wanted to spend time with you, no ulterior motives involved, no divine prophecies? The bitterness starts creeping into you again, souring your mood.  

“So, I was thinking,” Belle begins, interrupting your ill humor, “that if any place had information on the curse, it would probably be the pawn shop.” Her face looks a bit sad, uncomfortable. Swallowing and taking a long drink to try and clear your mind, you give her your full attention.

“You think that we’ll find the answers there?”

“It’s our best shot. My --” she pauses, tears coming to her eyes. You wish she wouldn’t cry over him. “Rumple. If the answer is out there, it would be in his shop.”

“Do you want to go today?” you ask, because she looks like she might not be able to handle it.

“Yes. After lunch, if you can,” she says, her posture firming, brows setting in determination. She’s so much braver than you had realized. This, you understand, is the girl that stole Rumplestiltskin’s heart. You begin to reevaluate your perception of their relationship. You feel a fool for not realizing that the girl who managed to tame such a pitiless beast would be so utterly remarkable. Your own resolve hardens, solid. Turning her will be so much more than making Rumplestiltskin second best -- it will be about breaking his heart, the way he broke yours. And your prize shall be Belle. Your cheeks are hurting from grinning so hard, and you’re probably frightening her.

“My apologies,” you say, fighting the mirth flooding you, “that was just a really, really good cheeseburger.” It’s enough to distract her, and she returns the look easily.

“I was really excited the first time I had one, too,” she says, leaning over the table like she’s confessing a secret. You drop enough cash on the table to cover the both of you. She looks like she wants to protest, but you stand too quickly and gesture towards the door.

“Never a better time to unravel a mystery, wouldn’t you say?” you say. Belle stands up, all nervous energy.

“I always wanted adventures, but I didn’t think I would be involved in something like this,” she says, moving to the door. “Thank you, Zelena, for helping my friend. I kept telling myself that Ruby just didn’t want to see me…”

“How could that be true, Belle? Come on, I know we can figure this out,” you say convincingly, just as interested in the manipulation of the curse as you are in gaining more ground with Belle, with getting even more enmeshed in Rumplestiltskin’s life. That gets a smile out of her, and she hooks her elbow around yours, a little pink at the cheeks, and leads you to Mr. Gold’s Pawn Shop.


End file.
